


Valentine's Day

by Mouse9



Series: Cherries and Ginger [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, valentines day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:48:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22729402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mouse9/pseuds/Mouse9
Summary: Molly has never had a good romantic Valentine's Day.  Now that she'd dating Sherlock Holmes, she never expects to have one either.After all, why would one expect a person who scoffs at sentiment to celebrate what is supposed to be the most romantic day of the year?
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Series: Cherries and Ginger [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1470830
Comments: 7
Kudos: 104





	Valentine's Day

She wasn’t expecting anything for Valentine’s Day, really she wasn’t.

Valentine’s Day was a manufactured holiday specifically made for couples. She preferred the 15 February when all the good chocolate went on sale.

Valentine’s day had never been a big thing when she was with Tom. The first year she’d made plans for a romantic dinner at Clos Maggiore followed by a romantic stroll. At least, that’s what he had told her. They actually spent it in the A&E after Tom turned his ankle stepped off a kerb and fractured a bone. 

The next year he was out of town on business and what she received was a quick text and a promise to go out when he got back.

The third and last year, they were engaged, Sherlock was back and Molly worked the evening shift. 

That had caused an argument because she hadn’t taken the day off.

“What if I had something romantic planned for us?”

“We’ve never celebrated Valentine’s Day, Tom. Not since we’ve started dating. Why was I supposed to assume this year would be different?”

“That’s not fair. You know there were extenuating circumstances for each of those times.”

“And I had to work. You never said anything, so I didn’t bother asking for the night off.”

For Molly, it was simple logic, nothing had happened the last two Valentine’s days, why take a day off only to be disappointed? Within three months, she had returned the ring and he had packed his things.

This year, ever after emotions were exposed, feelings were reciprocated and tenative negotiations towards a relationship were established, Molly still had no hopes.

Sherlock was not romantic. Not in the way other people might be considered romantic. There were no hearts and flowers, No chocolates. No random texts of love or call in the middle of the day that were somehow related to a case.

He showed his love in small, meaningful ways but for a man who publically (not around Rosie) disdained Christmas, Valentine’s day wasn’t even a blip on his radar.

* * *

Per usual, the day started out with a murder.

Molly was in the lab early, prepping for the examination of one Mr. Rutherford Morrison, cause of death either gunshot wound or stabbing. 

“Someone was not happy with their present this morning.” Molly joked weakly as the doors to her morgue swung open revealing Greg followed by John and finally Sherlock, eyes focused on his mobile. As they crowded around the table, she pulled back the sheet to show a bevy of chest wounds. John’s nose wrinkled in disgust.

“That would be his mistress.” Greg said. “While you’re in there, check for a two carat square cut diamond solitaire.”

Molly blinked at Greg, then looked to John and Sherlock- the latter still on his mobile, the former covering a yawn.

“I’m guessing the carrot was not large enough.” John joked. Molly and Greg shared a look.

“Do excuse John,” Sherlock suddenly said as she pocketed his mobile. “Lack of sleep due to a rigourous night of sex with the new girlfriend.”

Greg bit his lip to hide a chuckle as John glared at his friend.

“What did we agree about deducing my personal romantic life?”

The words were sharp, and Molly winced, feeling the familiar twist of bile in her stomach rise at his tone. Sherlock remained still, focused on John’s angry face.

“I didn’t deduce.” He answered, voice calm. “You pocket dialed me. I overheard an entire minute of saccurine dialogue before I disconnected.”

This time Greg did laugh. Molly dropped her chin, focusing on Mr. Morrison’s distended chest to hide the smile on her mouth. John huffed but didn’t respond. 

“So.” Greg addressed Molly, eager to change the subject. “Meet up tomorrow before work?”

She nodded, relieved the moment passed. “Is nine okay?”

“Nine’s great. I got a thing in the morning, but I’ll meet you there.”

Molly didn’t bother to hide the grin this time, teeth catching her lower lip, eyes sparkling. She knew exactly what his “thing in the morning” was. He narrowed his eyes in warning.

John watched the interaction with a curious gaze, now that the focus was off of him.

“What’s going on with you two?”

“Discount chocolates,” Greg answered quickly. “We get them for the office.”

It was true. Greg had come in for a case the day after her first disastrous Valentine’s day with Tom. He noticed her haggard and drawn appearance, concluded that her holiday had been as horrid as his and had convinced her to go out during lunch with him and hit the nearest Tesco’s to buy discount Valentine’s candy. The next Valentine’s Day they made plans to go before work and from there, it became a yearly thing. 

“Chocolate is better when it’s half off.” Molly added with a bright grin.

“The case?” At Sherlock’s tone, all smiles faded and focus returned to the body before them.

“Right, I should be finished with Mr. Morrison at least by lunch, possibly after. I can have the results sent over to you?”

“No, “Greg pulled his mobile from his pocket and checked the screen. The corner of his lip twitched upward as he pocketed the device and returned his attention to Molly’s question. “We’re going to look at the flat, Sherlock’ll do his thing-“

“It’s not a  _ thing _ Garret, it’s a finely tuned observation of the-“

“We should be back here after lunch, give you enough time to finish.” Greg continued ignoring the now pouting Sherlock. “The ring is evidence and I’m sure His Nibs will want to have a go at it as well.”

Another huff. Molly nodded, re-covering the body.

“He’ll be finished by then.”

“Now that the day's plans have been made, can we inspect the flat? John has a  _ thing _ tonight. Molly, text me when you get the results.”

Sherlock strode out of the lab, ignoring a sputtering John who followed quickly after him. Greg rolled his eyes. 

“Text me when you’re finished.”

“Lestrade!”

Molly bit back another grin. “I will.”

He was out the door and Molly was once again alone with the body on the table.

“Well Mr. Morrison, I see your Valentine’s Day was much more exciting than mine.”

* * *

“Cause of death was gunshot wound.” 

Autopsy over and the body cleaned and repacked, Molly stood over the table like a teacher lecturing her students. She lifted a clear plastic baggie marked with red evidence tape that held a two carat square cut diamond ring.

“While the victim was forced to swallow the ring while alive, causing the esophageal tearing, and while the stab wound to the chest punctured a lung, the victim was still alive, bleeding and choking when the bullet entered the chest through the left side of his back.”

“Cor,” Greg winced. “She was not mucking about.”

“I’m not sure it was the mistress.” She said. Sherlock leaned in towards the body, where Molly was pointing. “The stab wound to the chest broke through the sixth rib breaking it off. The killer would have had to pull hard to pull the knife from the chest. While I can’t determine if the mistress pulled the trigger, I can tell you that she didn’t stab him.”

Sherlock looked up at her, mercurial eyes shining with excitement. His lips curled upward, and Molly felt her own heart skip a beat. 

“She’s correct. There is tearing around the wound where the knife was pulled forcefully. There was someone else in the flat with them.” Spinning around, he headed for the door. “No time to waste, we need to go back to the flat.”

With a resigned sigh, Molly handed over the evidence to Greg. “Go solve a murder.”

“Relax tonight,” Greg answered, voice low. “You deserve it.”

“Lestrade!”

With a sigh, Greg left the morgue for the second time that day and once again, Molly was alone.

* * *

Getting home was easy on this day, half the city left work early and were fighting traffic to make dinner reservations or to get ready for dates. The train was almost empty and for that Molly was glad. 

Finding a seat, she relaxed her aching feet and sat back, eyes nearly closed as the train pulled out of Moorgate. Valentine’s Day always seemed to bring out the worst in people as well as the best so she had a few more deaths that came down to her, accidental this time, not murder, but enough to keep her busy the rest of the day. 

The thought of a solitary evening at home, a hot bath with her favorite salt, a bottle of wine and something with that hot actor in it…the one who reminded her of Sherlock, made the journey home seem to move a little faster.

The night wasn’t cold and Molly was grateful. Huddled against cold winds, fighting her way to her flat was not how she wanted to end her day. Bundling up, she made the four long blocks towards her flat.

She hadn’t heard anything from Sherlock since the second time he’d left her morgue. He was probably finishing up the rest of the case while John got ready for his date that night. She didn’t expect to hear from him at all. But the look he’d given her, while for the case, still told her  _ Clever. Caught something I overlooked. Clever you.  _ She liked those looks, coming from him. Yes, she was a professional adult woman with letters behind her name and a salary to match and didn’t need validation from anyone, but that look from him sent knees wobbling and pulse racing. She liked impressing him, surprising him. It was rare anyone was able to suss out anything before Sherlock, so it meant more to her when she was the one who did it.

Trudging up the walk to her door, she slid the key in and turned the lock. The door opened and Molly stepped in from the cold…and into another world. 

The lights coming from her sitting room emanated from candles placed in every available space. Violin music was playing from a speaker connected to a phone on the side table and the fireplace was aglow, the wood and peet crackling in the hearth sending of a faint hint of sandalwood and vanilla. 

The bag slid from Molly’s shoulder to land beside her feet. 

“What…”

The scent of him overwhelmed her, the heat of his body warm against the downy back of her coat. His voice, low and timber, was near her ear and she shivered. 

“Today is a manufactured holiday set about by the chocolatiers to increase revenue and therefore utterly pointless.” Hand slid over her shoulders, pulling off her coat. She let him, wasn’t sure she had the ability to do it on her own. 

“However, I would suffer hundreds of these meaningless holidays because they mean something to you. And I will do everything in my power to make you happy.”

She turned, facing him, eyes wide, neck craning up to look at him. He stood before her, no suit jacket, the sleeves of her favorite purple shirt rolled to his elbows. 

“You…planned this?” She couldn’t believe it, couldn’t comprehend. How did the man who aborhed any form of emotion create a better valentine’s day than her ex? “I thought you’d be out on Mr. Morrison’s case.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes dismissively. “Solved it. The mistress had an ex boyfriend. Jealous sort. Morrison came over in the morning to see her. She was at yoga, but the ex saw him going inside. Killed him in the bedroom to make it look like a crime of passion.” His smirk of pride faded as he looked back down at her. “I wasn’t wrong when I said that John had a thing tonight, he does. What I didn’t say was I wanted to finish before you left work so I could prepare this.”

Tears gathered in Molly’s eyes and immediately Sherlock was alarmed. 

“What? What's wrong? Did I do it wrong?”

“You did everything just right.” She laughed, wiping away tears. She slid her hands up his chest, wrapping them around him as she leaned in against him. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

His arms came around her, holding her tight to him. She could hear the steady thrum of his heart beneath her ear.

“I’m not a good man, but-

Molly cupped a hand over his mouth, stopping his words. 

“I’ve never really had a Valentine’s Day.” She began, her voice low. Sherlock’s hand came up to cover hers, pulling her hand from his mouth, but holding it close. “Not even when I was…well, not even with Tom. I never expected anything from you, never. This is more than I even dreamed. So yes, Sherlock Holmes, you are a good man. The best man I’ve ever known.”

Rising, she tugged his head down towards her, a movement he readily gave into. Their lips met, soft at first, but then insistent, needful. His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer to him until she was pressed against his body, aligned tight against him. 

“Thank you,” she whispered against his lips. She felt him smile.

“Always.” He loosened his hold on her, letting her feet fall flat on the floor. He took her hand, leading her to the kitchen. 

“Now. I searched the internet and found several dishes that are said to be an aphrodisiac. I’m eager to test the theory.” His eyebrows waggled. “Hopefully I can change your mind on bargain chocolate.”

She laughed as she eagerly followed him into the kitchen. 


End file.
